A Coping Mechanism
by Kristen3
Summary: An AU scene from 1.7, "Imaginary Friend." Fran is distraught at the idea of "killing" Grace's imaginary friend, Imogene. But Max explains why Imogene's departure is actually for the best. One-shot. Written as a birthday gift for Allison Lindsay! *Hugs*


**Author's Note: **This story is dedicated to Allison (Allison Lindsay) in gratitude for her love and support of my writing, esp. for TN. Because "Imaginary Friend" has always been a favorite of ours, it seemed only right to do this story now as a birthday present for Allison. *****Hugs***** Enjoy!

Fran felt a horrible wave of guilt. What was supposed to be a fun activity to share with her youngest charge had gone terribly wrong. She and little Grace had been baking cookies together. Both were having fun (and eating more than a little raw cookie dough). But, then, Fran bit into one of the freshly-made cookies. A moment later, Grace exclaimed that her imaginary friend, Imogene, had been sitting on the partially eaten chocolate-chip cookie.

Both Fran and her boss worked quickly, hoping to "revive" poor Imogene. They performed CPR, which proved rather difficult, since they were unable to see their patient. Despite their best efforts, Grace informed the two adults that it was too late. Imogene was gone.

"Gracie probably hates me!" Fran said to Mr. Sheffield.

"Oh, Miss Fine, Grace doesn't hate you! She adores you; you know that."

"Yeah, she loved me _before_. Before I ate her best friend!"

Maxwell put an arm around his nanny. "Imogene was imaginary. Deep down, Grace knows that. You know, I've always loved all my children. And of course Gracie is my little girl. But I don't think I understood just how much I loved her until after her mother was gone. She cried constantly. I can't begin to tell you how that made me feel, to know that she was in that kind of pain, and there was nothing I could do. And of course I was grieving as well. It was a horrible time for all of us. Thankfully, C.C. suggested I take Grace to see a therapist. That's how I became acquainted with Dr. Bort."

"Boy, that's one thing Ma never would've done with me and my sister. In a Jewish family, you don't go to some shrink to solve your problems. You just eat an entire cake by yourself!"

Max laughed. Despite his initial reservations, he found that he liked his nanny's colorful anecdotes. "I started to worry about Grace the day she told us all at breakfast that she'd made a friend named Imogene. I thought perhaps it was a little girl in her pre-school. But, to my surprise, she pointed to an empty chair next to her."

"Poor Gracie," Fran said.

"Yes. 'Poor Grace,' indeed. But what Dr. Bort told me was that Imogene would eventually disappear, whenever Grace felt she no longer needed her as a coping mechanism for her loneliness. So, you see, Miss Fine, this is actually a good thing."

"I just ate a person, and it's a _good_ thing?" Fran asked.

Once again, Max chuckled. Miss Fine always did have a unique way of putting things. "I believe that the Grace no longer needs Imogene, and there can only be one explanation." He paused, wondering if his nanny would make the connection on her own.

"Well, are you gonna tell me what it is, or just leave me hanging here?"

"It's you, Miss Fine. My daughter doesn't feel lonely anymore because she knows that she has someone here who loves her."

At this, Fran let out an "Awww!"which made her boss wince. He was still getting used to her accent. "I do love your kids, Mr. Sheffield. Yup, even Brighton." She laughed. The boy was certainly a handful, constantly teasing his sisters, and testing Fran's wits with daily pranks.

Max smiled. "And they love you." He kissed her cheek. Being a Brit, he wasn't used to physical displays of affection. But this was yet another thing for which Fran could take credit. In the short time she'd been living here, she'd demonstrated the importance of a good hug now and then. Once, Max even witnessed her hugging her mother, right in the middle of an argument. When he'd asked for an an explanation, he was told it was a Jewish custom.

Life in this house hadn't been the same since a door-to-door cosmetics saleswoman showed up on the doorstep. And Maxwell Sheffield was deeply grateful for that fact.

**The End**


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